Savior
by NightStalker933
Summary: Vladimir Makarov is dangerous, even idiots know that. He's accepted the fact that he will be alone for the rest of his life a long time ago. So why the hell does he feel the need to be around this American woman he's never even met before? Why does she stick around? Doesn't she know he can't be loved? Makarov/OC


**There is so much OOC!Makarov in this and I'm sorry haha I think he's in my top five for Modern Warfare and I love hime so I wanted to write something for him. I don't know about this though. Reviews are definitely welcome:)**

Vladimir Makarov is a man to be feared across every nation. His unruly black hair and heterochromic eyes made him very recognizable and it was near impossible to find a single person alive who wouldn't hide their children from him. He was the most wanted man in the entire world. He was a ruthless and coldblooded killer. Except, there is a lot people don't know and don't expect. Like when he's away on business, he barely sleeps, unable to stop the endless screams of innocents. Even he knows that what he's doing is inhuman, but he's convinced himself that it's necessary. Every decision, every order, weighs on his ice cold heart. His entire world is corrupt and filled with betrayal. His life and his mind is made up endless darkness.

Then there's her. The one light in his dark world, shining brilliantly. It sounds cliche, but when he met her, his entire world stopped and for what seemed like the first time in his life, his body felt warm instead of a piercing cold. Her beautiful brown curls cascaded across her shoulders. Barely any makeup was painted on her tan face, but she was still the most beautiful woman in the room. She was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a dark blue hoodie, accompanied by a pair of black boots and a gray jacket to protect her from the harsh russian weather. She stood in line at a cafe in a part of town that, much to his distaste, quite a few Americans and Canadians occupied. The community spoke mostly english, but a lot of people spoke Russian still. It seemed to him that quite a few people knew her, judging by the acknowledging nods and smiles exchanged. Her smile was amazing.

It took Makarov a few moments to decide his next move. In 4 strides, he stood behind the beauty. Uncharacteristically, his heartbeat sped up but he was careful not to show it. He didn't even know why he was there. Even talking to her was a weakness and he couldn't afford any more of those. He marveled at her height. With her being around what he guessed was 5'4, he towered over her easily. He smirked slightly, then his stony and cold expression returned. No, Vladimir.

Soon, she was at the front of the line. She ordered something Makarov paid no attention to and the woman behind the counter smiled. As she moved to pay, Makarov considered paying for her, but dismissed the idea as quickly as it came. It was stupid enough that he stood there. He would not pay some American's way in his own country. The woman passed her the drink and she moved to sit in a seat near the windows. Makarov shifted his attention to the barista and watched the recognition flicker in her eyes. He mentally smirked. After ordering, paying and receiving his coffee, he took a seat a few tables down from the woman. He sat, drinking his coffee while flipping through his phone. He must've sat there for at least 20 minutes, and the woman had yet to move from her spot by the window. He looked down at his phone, quickly scanning the new text from Anatoly and when he looked back up, there was a man sitting across from her. 'Right. Of course. How could I be so fucking stupid.' Hr screamed at himself in his head. Makarov inwardly sighed, standing to discard his empty cup and he started towards the exit. Picking up a bit of their conversation, h slowed his pace, pretending to check his phone. What he heard shocked him.

"Why not?" The man asked smoothly.

"Because I have other things to attend to." Her voice was silky smooth and enchanting, yet laced with something a bit more intimidating.

"So? Come on, my place or yours. A little fun." She shook her head and moved to stand, but he grabbed her wrist harshly before she could. "Listen bitch, my friends are watching and you will not embarrass me." His voice was now sharp and menacing. Makarov watched her grimace as his grip became bruising and, for some reason, decided to take action. Stepping up behind him, he cleared his throat. When the man doesn't respond in the slightest, he tries something different. Laying a hand on his shoulder, he leaned down towards the bastard.

"Maybe you should let the lady go, before your embarrassment is the least of your problems." Makarov's voice held every bit of malice as the mans did and his words spoke truth and inspired fear.

"And who are you?" The man scoffed and turned to look at him. It only took him a second for him to register who he actually was and when he did, his face paled dramatically. He began stuttering and immediately released the woman's wrist. In his peripheral vision, Makarov saw her rub her wrist, eyes never leaving his face. He squeezed the mans shoulder crushingly and hissed a simple "Get lost" and the man ran like hell. Makarov smirked and turned to leave when the same enchanting voice from earlier spoke. He turned slowly and cocked an eyebrow, nodded and gestured towards the seat on front of her. Makarov's smirk dropped and she suddenly blushed.

"I-I mean i-if you wanna. Y-you don't have to." She laughed nervously. Makarov made the worst decision of his life and sat across from her. She smiled and he almost smiled as well, but remembered that he shouldn't. She asked so many questions. Who he was, what he did, where he was from. He felt obligated to tell her the truth, despite the fact that every training he'd ever had said never to give that the of information to people you don't know, especially if they're American. He told her of his work, and shockingly, she barely blinked. She flinched at first and her eyes widened, but she then smiled and relaxed. When he asked why she wasn't scared of him, she replied simply that he defended her so why should she fear him. He smiled slightly, but recomposed himself quickly. In return for his story, she told him hers. He learned that her name was Kailyn, she was born in Santa Monica and she's a nurse at the local hospital. He also learned that she spoke Russian near flawlessly. Then he looked in her eyes. Her warm brown eyes met his mismatched ones and that was it.

She seemed perfect. He didn't see everything. The first day they met, he didn't see that her father raped her when she was 8. That he abused her, and every day was a constant struggle to protect Justin. Her brother. Not herself. Him. He was amazed. But there was more. He didn't see that her mother was such a wreck, that she swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills and never woke up. The abuse got worse. When Kailyn turned 18, she ran, taking 16 year old Justin with her. She went to school and became a nurse, raising Justin. She almost forgot her dad. Until the day she came home to a bloody apartment and her father standing before Justin, who was already long gone. He asked why she ran. He yelled and they fought and she ran like absolute hell. She ended up in Russia.

She cried when she told him after a nightmare. She cried so hard, it was heartbreaking. That night, she cried for her mother, for her lost childhood and for her brother. For her little brother who was taken way too soon. Her face was red and stained with tears. The sight hurt so badly. She screamed and sobbed, apologizing between them. Makarov told her to stop apologizing; he didn't want to hear it. She could barely breath, that much he could see. Going against everything he'd ever believed in and despite his intense hatred for anybody touching him, he hugged her. He pulled her to his chest and she gripped his shirt and cried harder. He ran his fingers through her hair, trying to calm her. Listening to her, his heart clenched and he fought back tears. 'You do not cry for fuck sakes.' Eventually, her sobs quieted down and her breathing steadied. Her grip on his shirt lessened and he released his hold on her. She looked up at him, cheeks covered in tears and, not knowing what else to do, he kissed her. It wasn't their first kiss, but it was the kiss that ignited everything.

Two days later, her father was killed.

A few weeks later, Makarov was laying in bed beside her and both were sound asleep. Until horrible memories invaded his dreams. His father being killed. Torture. Massacre. His grip on whatever was in his hands tightened extremely and his eyes squeezed closed even further. Kailyn awoke, startled by the bruising hold he now had on her side. It was weird because they rarely ever touched while they slept. He wasn't real touchy feely. She was scared at first, but when she turned and saw his face, recognition crossed her features. She removed herself from his grip and put one hand on the side of his face.

"Vovka." She said softly. "Vovka." Her voice only triggered something in him. His worst nightmare. All of a sudden, she was standing in front of him in chains. A gun was in his hand. She was crying and yelling. 'Monster', 'Murderer', 'Heartless'. But that wasn't the worst one. The one that almost forced tears from his eyes was the 'I could never love you' that passed her lips.

She saw the change. She felt like something really bad just happened, and knew she had no choice but to wake him. She called his name one more time and when he didn't wake, she kissed him. She kissed him until she felt his lips move against hers, and then she pulled back. She looked into his mismatched eyes and for the first time since they'd met 6 months ago, he looked away. That's when she knew something was really wrong. He shook off her hand and stood up. When he turned, his face was indescribable and Kailyn felt nothing but absolute terror.

"Just leave." Kailyn was speechless.

"What?"

"Stop lying to me, and leave. Do it and I'll spare you your life." His eyes were so cold.

"Lying? About what, Vovka?"

"Don't call me that!" He roared and tears began to stream down her face. She may have loved him, but she knew what he was capable of. "Stop lying. You don't love me."

Kailyn paused and suddenly it dawned on her. She quickly thought of everything she could do and one plan stuck out most. It was reckless and dangerous and if it didn't work out, she'd die. But she had to try.

"Vov-Vladimir." She slowly rose from the bed and crept towards him. His eye followed her as if she was going to stab him. "Please. I swear, I really do love you."

"Liar." He hissed. She'd reached him.

"I know you've seen a lot. And I know you've done a lot. But that doesn't change how I feel and it never will. You are the absolute strongest person I have ever met, mentally and physically. You don't let many people get close to you and I think this is why." He tensed. "You don't think you deserve it. But you do. And I swear on my brother's grave that I love you with all my heart. But if that isn't enough for you and you still want me to leave...then I will." She looked up at him and saw no change in his features. She looked down at her bare feet and held back more tears.

She turned around and walked to the door. As she put her hand on the doorknob, she felt two strong arms wrap around he middle and Vladimir buried his head in her neck. She felt hot tears hit her skin.

"Please. Don't leave." She was shocked but as they walked to the bed, she replied with a sincere "Never". That was the first of many nights that she slept with his arms around her. It was also the last nightmare he had about her.

That was his one vulnerable night.

Makarov snapped out of his daydream. He looked at the freshly discarded gear by the bedroom door and then turned to look back at the beauty fast asleep behind him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees and stared at the floor. He didn't know how long. Suddenly, two arms wrapped around his shoulders and Kailyn buried her head in his neck. He tensed momentarily, but relaxed when the familiar scent of her shampoo hit him. He took one of her hands and she mumbled a sleepy 'I missed you'. Vladimir chuckled and returned the statement. She went to kiss his cheek and he turned his head at the last second, capturing her lips with his. He loved the way she tasted. Like chocolate and French vanilla and something distinctly her. He turned to face her and pulled her closer. Eventually they pulled away and Kailyn put her forehead on his.

"I love you, Vovka." She smiled that same brilliant smile.

"I love you too, Lyn." They kissed again. When they pulled away the second time, Vladimir noticed the way she sat and the way her eyes barely stayed open. He chuckled and picked her up only to lay her back down correctly on the bed. She watched as he quickly took off his suit and changed for bed. He slid in next to her and wrapped his arms around her. Vladimir kissed her head and spoke softly. "Go to sleep, my love. I'll be here when you wake up." She fell asleep almost instantly.

Despite how tired he was, he stayed up a little longer. He replayed every conversation they'd ever had and found himself even more in love. Over time, he'd become able to leave his love for her at home. While working or on a mission, he almost completely ignored her existence. He was every bit as cold and ruthless as he was before they met. But at home, she's his and he's free. He's different and his close friends can see it.

That day at the cafe, he thought that he was saving her. Truth is, she's the one who saved him.

**Soo..thoughts? Haha oh and with any luck, a new chapter of Unspoken will be out by Wednesday:)**


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